


And So I Fight

by ununoriginal



Category: CLAMP - Works, X/1999
Genre: F/M, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-08-21
Updated: 1998-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-14 07:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ununoriginal/pseuds/ununoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kasumi Karen's merely a prostitute, trying to survive in a society that rejected her. But why does she still stand with the forces of good?</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So I Fight

Knock on the door. "What...?"

It is already nine in the morning. All clients I can possibly have should be at work or with their families at home, if today is Sunday.

The knock comes again. Gods, I'm so tired. Can't a poor soapgirl get a good rest so she can concentrate on her next night's work?

"Who is it?!" I half-grumble, half-groan irritably as I unlock the door and fling it open, wishing bloody murder upon the intruder.

A pair of startled eyes framed by spectacles meet my flashing ones. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you..." The voice is gentle and soft-spoken. "Maybe I could come again at a later time?..." He looks sideways at the mama-san, Amie, apologetic and nervous.

"Oh no! She'll be too busy attending to clients at night to be interviewed. She IS the most popular soapgirl at 'Flower', you know." She gives an artificial trill of laughter. "So you go right in and Karen will be a nice girl and answer your questions," she concludes. I do not miss the subtle warning in her voice. Amie pushes the man into the room and shuts the door behind her.

In the awkward silence she leaves behind, I can hear the heels of shoes clicking against the floor as she makes for the lounge.

"Umm..." The man tugs nervously at the tie around his neck as his eyes dart around, taking in his surroundings. A small room dominated by the large king-size bed and the sunken square bath. A small dressing table stands in one corner, for me to freshen up between clients. The whole room is dimmed by the thick curtains that keep the light out. Only a small shaded lamp illuminates the place.

I snap my head around, glaring at him, but instincts honed by years of being a prostitute take over, and I force myself to smile. "What do you want, mister?" I ask sweetly, wishing to myself that for once, just once, I could toast all the men in the world, and their hypocrisy with it.

"I-I'm from the Kadokawa magazine, and we're doing a piece on soapgirls in our next issue, so I'd like to ask you a few questions about... your job," he finishes lamely.

"Oh? You'd like advice on the best way to rub men's backs," I shoot back dryly. I'm not going to make this easy for you, you shithead. This is for dragging me out of bed in the middle of the morning when I still need my sleep.

"...." His face turns red and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. I sigh, taking pity on him. It probably isn't his fault anyway. His boss probably made him do it. Somehow, I just can't quite picture him in a place like this. But then, one never knows about men.

"Okay, let's get over with it fast, so I can get my beauty sleep. My looks are not all just inborn, you know." I slant a seductive glance at him and nearly giggle as he blushes again and stutter an apology.

"You could tell me your name," I remark as I throw myself on the bed. "Though that's not something I ask of my clients. It's better not to attach names and backgrounds to such people. Keep it detached and clinical." I stifle a yawn as I turn to face him.

"I'm Aoki Seiichirou, Karen-san. Amie-san has already told me your name. I'm sorry to bother you, I'll try and make this quick. Could you tell me more about the types of people who frequent such... establishments?"

"Just Karen, please. And to answer your question, they're usually married men or older men who want to get relief from the stresses of life, as one termed it," I recall wryly. "They pay quite good money, though..."

"Alright, Karen. How many clients do you receive a night?" He doesn't look really comfortable just calling me by my name. How cute. So unlike those dirty old men who feel so free to call me their 'honey', 'sweet', or any other revolting endearment.

"Well, that depends..."

He asks more questions and I answer accordingly. The pillows are soft, and the bed extremely comfortable. I'm so tired... it has been an unusually busy night. Without realising it, I soon drift off.

 

I am awoken again by pounding on the door. This time I'm alone and covered by a blanket. Where has Aoki Seiichirou gone? Has he finished already? I don't remember him leaving. Shrugging, I throw off the blanket and go to open the door.

"Karen, it's time to get ready for tonight. How long were you planning to sleep?" Amie is standing there, hands on her hips, not very happy.

"Sorry, Amie. I'm going to dress up now."

As I proceed to apply makeup and change into the lingerie I wear while "entertaining", I sigh a little. But then, this is my job.

"You BITCH!!!"

That is the last thing I hear before my head makes violent acquaintance with the wall and I sink into oblivion.

When I come to, I am lying on the bed and Amie is looking at me worriedly. I try to sit up, which is a major mistake. My head is pounding and it hurts like hell!

"Are you alright now, Karen?" Amie's voice is concerned.

"That man overstepped his bounds, Amie." My voice sounds weak to my own ears.

"Yes, and we've handed that bastard over to the police. Now you just rest, okay? No more clients for the rest of the night. Thank goodness you hit the back of your head. There'll be no scarring..."

I smile cynically to myself. Who am I fooling? Amie isn't truly worried for me. With me gone, she will lose a large amount of money. That's her real concern.

"Could I just rest alone, Amie?"

"Alright," she rises, "take care now."

I hear the door close softly as I close my eyes and add another layer of ice over my heart.

 

I open my eyes again to see a pair of familiar bespectacled eyes looking back at me, only this time they are filled with concern and sadness, and... compassion... for me?

"Aoki-san?..."

"Karen, you've woken up! Are you feeling better?" he asks anxiously.

I manage a weak smile. "Yes, thank you. The headache's almost gone now. What are you doing here again?"

He smiles back, relieved. "We didn't finish your interview the other day. You fell asleep halfway through."

"You put a blanket on me," I recall.

He turns red. "Yes."

"Do you know that I've seen you blush more in two days than I ever did in my entire existence?" I ask teasingly.

Needless to say, he blushes again.

I laugh. Truly. I wonder how long it has been since I've last done that. Laughed from the bottom of my heart. "You might as well ask me what you want now. I have nothing else to do."

As he prepares his questions and the tape recorder, my thoughts drift, only to be pulled back by his tentative, "Karen?"

"Well, shoot."

 

A few days later, fully healed and scarless, I've just sent a fat old man away satisfied and grinning like a proverbial Cheshire cat when Aoki appears again at the door of my room, accompanied by Heather, a "colleague" of mine.

"Hey, Karen! This one says he's looking for you," she calls, pointing a slender finger over her shoulder at him as she turns to go. "My, my, don't you get all the good ones." She licks her lips. "Lucky gal!" She winks and walks off, laughing.

"Aw, shut up, Heather!" I laughingly throw back at her as I close the door of my room. Then I turn around.

"Aoki-san! What are you doing here again? I thought I finished answering all your questions the other day," I ask as I approach and stand in front of him. "Unless..." I trail a finger negligently across his cheek, "you're here for a different purpose, ne?"

His face turns beet red and he backs a step away -- a LARGE step. "No... NO!! Karen-san, I just came to see if you had recovered from your accident and to thank you. The article was great... And besides," he continues desperately, as I advance upon him like a cat upon a mouse, "I'm already married with a child..."

"Oh? Really?" I stop right in front of him, with barely an inch to spare between the two of us.

Aoki backs away again, ending up against the wall and I move in, stalking him further. Really, he is fun to tease.

Finally, driven to the end of his tether, he cries out, "Karen-san! Please! I didn't come here for this, I swear!"

Taking pity on him, I laugh and move away. "I know, but allow me my few amusements. Soapgirls like me do not meet men like you often, or should I say, almost never..." I trail off wistfully.

With that, I reach up and curve my hand around his neck, bringing his head down so his lips meet mine in a fleeting kiss.

Aoki seems ready to fly away as I let him go. Indeed, he already has his hand on the doorknob, his face the reddest I have ever seen it.

"Gomen nasai, Aoki-san. I was merely teasing you, but I have gone too far. If you are offended, I am not surprised, but please forgive me."

I expect him to take off, nonetheless. But instead, he leaves the door and comes toward me, smiling hesitantly. "I forgive you, Karen, but please don't do it again."

"I give you my word."

 

Aoki leaves a while later, after making sure I've really recovered from my accident. I watch from behind the curtains of the window in my room, so often drawn tightly shut, as he walks away. The feeling of being confined is so strong, and yet... I feel a new freedom.

Looking down at the photograph in my hand, I smile wistfully. There are three people in that picture, Aoki with his wife, Shimako, and their daughter, Yuka. Aoki has given it to me after I asked for it. I can still remember Aoki's face as he described them. It was so animated and radiant with love and I'm sure that he could have just gone on and on about his beloved wife and child if Amie had not interrupted.

Thinking back, I have never experienced such a feeling, either loving someone so that he becomes your existence or being loved as much. But I know now that such an emotion is possible and exists on this earth.

Then, just maybe, the earth isn't such a lousy place after all. I close my eyes, and for the first time in my entire life, let loose the supernatural fire I possess but have always kept under so tight a leash. I extend it beyond the red light district that has been until now my world and let it sweep through the whole area of Tokyo.

I hear the joyful sounds of children playing, keening wails from those who have lost their loves, rage at being betrayed and contentment of others in the things around them. Pain, suffering, grief, interspersed with happiness, laughter, enjoyment... yes, most of all, a sense of innate joy in just being alive. _Why?_ I question silently. _Why this happiness when so many suffer?_ And the answer comes back to me, like a beacon in the night. _Because we are alive, because we are alive to do what we want, to enjoy, to laugh, to cry, to grieve, to suffer, to love..._

 

"Karen!" I'm pulled out of the greatest revelation of my life by Amie's violent shaking. "Karen, snap out of it!"

Struggling to get out of her bruising grip, I protest, "Okay, okay, I'm fine now!"

Amie lets me go, although she looks dubious. "Well, then you had better get ready fast."

"No problem." I flash her a wink before I turn towards the dressing table.

I catch Amie looking at me with a puzzled expression in the mirror. "What's the matter, Amie?"

"I don't know. You seem fresh, more radiant somehow." She shrugs. "I can't explain it, but it should please the customers." She leaves, and the door closes behind her.

 

I gaze at my face in the mirror. It is the same face I have possessed for more than two decades, and it is a new one. More radiant, hmm? Maybe that's because I have just discovered that I like my world, despite the side of it I see, and that I like Tokyo just the way it is, with both its light and darkness. For without the darkness, what is there to contrast the light?

But most of all, I realize that I love my life, or more exactly, that fact that I am alive, and I have sensed my destiny. To fight, to protect the Tokyo I love and the people here who are worth my fighting for.

I pull open a drawer and place the photograph of Aoki and his family carefully within. To him, this visit may just have been just part of his job, but it has turned me around.

Thank you, Aoki. I must say this to you personally when we meet again. I know that we will.


End file.
